Logic
by Pittsy
Summary: After catching Clark and Maxima hot and heavy in the elevator, Lois can't sleep. Set during S8 episode "Instinct."


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with Smallville.

**A/N: **This is my first attempt at Smallville fan fic (inspired by the excellent season 8).

**Spoiler: **This episode is set during Season 8's episode 'Instinct.'

**Logic**

It was 12am. She couldn't sleep.

Those words burrowed through her dreams. They still echoed around her head, endlessly tormenting her.

_You have a deep connection to him, I felt it._

Yeah, she snorted to herself, its called mild antagonism. She'd been twisting and turning in her clammy sheets for hours, trying and failing to understand what on earth that crazy bitch had been talking about. Logically, she knew that it had been the ramblings of a mad woman and was not worthy of her soul searching. She shouldn't be having images full of horribly twisting bodies, clothes ripping, an elevator dinging speeding through her mind. She shouldn't be reliving that moment, which, logically, should have meant nothing to her. She shouldn't have felt so suddenly vulnerable for a reason that was definitely not logical, one that she absolutely refused to unlock from its dungeon. She should laugh over the thought of a 'connection'.

But she couldn't laugh at it, no matter how hard she wanted to. It scared her too much. Illogically, those words ran on a continuous cycle in her head and every time she thought about what they intimated, she came close to hyperventilating.

_He would never have been able to pull away from me if he wasn't drawn by his attraction to you._

Clark wasn't attracted to Lois. That was plain fact. He had Lana for that sort of thing. It didn't matter that she'd gone AWOL. Lois knew that any lucky lady in Clark's future would never measure up to Lana. She was his perfect woman, in every way, in a way that made Lois feel slightly nauseous. There was such a thing as _too _perfect. Sometimes, Lois mused to herself, it was more interesting if the puzzle pieces didn't fit seamlessly together. In her humble opinion, it was more exciting if they had to be poked, and prodded, and made to fit. Sometimes that bit of friction could be the cause of a scorching heat. Lois valued fierce passion; she had little time nor patience for woe and angst. She didn't revel in it like some people did.

_He may not know it yet, but, believe me, there's a bond._

Ok, maybe the psycho was right about one thing. It was only deep in the dead of night, when she was all alone in the darkness, and had been for several hours already that night, that Lois grudgingly admitted to herself that they _did _have a connection. They had been through so much together that it was only reasonable that they would feel a certain attachment to each other. They were colleagues and recently they had been veering dangerously close to being best friends. The Daily Planet did that to a person. It wrapped you up in its cocoon of breaking news, made you family, bonded you for life.

But, even so, she wasn't going to make demands on him.

She didn't need to know how near the top of his speed dial list she was. She knew that Chloe was his greatest friend, and Lana was his dream girl. Lois was something altogether different. Their bond was deeper than best friends and different from first love. She knew she confused him and challenged him. She fought him, she tormented him, she annoyed him, she stormed at him, she took great delight in talking down to him, and she most certainly didn't worship him.

All she knew and cared about was that she trusted him and he trusted her. She didn't ask him a thousand questions, she didn't beg him for a truth he couldn't give her, she didn't demand explanations every time he darted out of the room on an 'errand', and most of the time she didn't care. She didn't need to know the details because she knew him. She knew that he had secrets, but she trusted that he had a reason for keeping them to himself. If he didn't want to tell her, who was she to force them out of him? He was Clark, of course, there would be a good reason for keeping things to himself. Anyway, everyone had secrets. It was human nature.

Lois stretched her arms above her head and sighed. She didn't think she'd ever sleep again. Images flashed across her mind's eye, of Smallville grinning at her annoyingly, of him shouting at her furiously. Why was it that she enjoyed their confrontations even when he was being an asshole?

She wondered idly if Lana ever saw that devilish smile that he flashed at her on a frequent basis, the one that was so at odds with his usual "yes, ma, yes, pa" persona, the smile that caused a strange little shiver to dance up Lois's spine. Whenever Clark and Lana were in the same room she had only ever seen tears, tension, and misery. In her opinion, it really wasn't healthy.

_I could see it on your face when you caught us together- you feel it too._

She hadn't had any sort of look except mild surprise on her face when she had happened upon the orgy in the elevator. Shock, possibly disgust, but at no time had she displayed facial expressions that suggested she felt anything besides that which a normal person would experience when suddenly confronted by a colleague macking on a high-class prostitute in an elevator. Yes, they did have a nice work colleagues-slash-friends thing going on, but nothing of the sort the super-powered loon was intimating.

Their relationship had changed recently, she admitted it freely. It was a natural that because they spent so much time together that their friendship would evolve.

_So what if my heart flutters just a little whenever he's near? _She whispered to herself as she finally floated off into sleep.

A body slammed into the wall of the elevator and something dinged. She groaned as his hands roamed under her shirt, caressing her bare back, and she repaid the favour, ripping the buttons off his shirt as she pulled it off him. His chest was magnificent, ripped, golden. She fed off him, rejoiced in him. She slowly traced her hands up his chest, relishing his sharp intake of breath. She grinned up into his darkened eyes, loving the power she had.

He growled, pushed her back into the wall and kissed her like she'd never been kissed before.

Their tongues tangled, teeth clashed, bit. He lifted her up and her legs clamped around him. He pushed her skirt up, his warm, rough hand gripping her bare thigh, leaving her panting for breath and demanding more.

He kissed her neck and began to slowly undo the buttons on her shirt, building the anticipation. She needed his hands touching her. She needed to feel him pressed against her. She didn't care about anything else in the universe; there was just him, her, their bodies, twisting in the harsh light, grinding against each other until she couldn't take it any longer. She needed to have him.

"Smallville," she moaned. "For God's sake, Smallville, touch me!"

She flew out of sleep and was stood at the side of her bed panting and staring wildly around her room before she comprehended what had just happened and why there was a strange tingling between her legs.

There is a certain stage that a person hits in these situations when there is no escaping the truth. It is a place beyond denial, past analysis, and far removed from logic.

Only one word sprung to Lois's lips, only one which voiced the confusion, fury, and shock she felt.

"Fuck."

* * *


End file.
